Butterfly
by this-is-my-permanent-username
Summary: Cammie Morgan is a 17 year old cancer patient. She knows she doesn't have long to live, so as one of her final things she wants to do in life, she writes a letter to the boy she has always loved. NO SPIES.


**Hey, guys, so i'm really truly sorry for not writing stories in ages but school has been busy.. so yeah, not much of an excuse.**

**Read this, and please review. Also, if anyone ever needs to talk to somebody, feel free to message me; i'll always reply x**

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Her sapphire blue eyes closed, as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. After years of treatment for cancer that wasn't going to go away, Cammie Morgan wanted so much a reason to live; a reason to dream. The only way for that, she knew, was to take a risk, let go of all her pain and try to be happy; _for once._

Cammie's slender fingers closed around a pen she had early left on the table to write the letter to Zach, her crush since childhood. Her letter to him, wouldn't confess her love as such but tell him what she was going through, her pain, fears, and worries. She hoped, somehow, it would bring her relief before she died.

_Zach,  
We haven't spoken in a while. More than a while, if I'm honest: since I was 10 and you were 12. Since I was diagnosed with cancer- neuroblastoma. Only 3% diagnosed are over 10; guess I'm unlucky, huh? Stage four now, and no matter how many treatments or medical trials my parents sign me up to, I won't be cured. I know that, but I guess they're waiting for a miracle that I don't think will ever happen. I want to believe that will happen, I _do _want a miracle. I do want to live. I won't go on about cancer, you don't really care about that, and I don't want you to know about it. It doesn't concern you, and it never will._

So, Zach, how you been? You're interest it me may have been lost (somewhere among those treatments...) but mine of you has not. You were my best friend, I mean, I have a new one now, but she's a different paragraph. I wish, so bad, that we didn't stop talking. I have lots of time to wish.  
You know, our parents still talk. You probably didn't know that, they only told that because they treat me like an adult. Anyway, my point is we didn't have to stop talking, I'm ill, but it's not a disease; it's not contagious. I have cancer, I will die, but right now I am still a person, I am still alive. I do deserve to live, and I deserved to have someone like to stay my friend, I still do. But that's not your fault, how could you control what your parents thought was best for you. You couldn't. Not really, I mean maybe you put up a fight but you were twelve, it didn't matter what you thought. What I'm trying to say is I liked you. I always did, all those years and now I think I love you. This is my love letter to you, Zach, it might not make sense and you might hate it. It's what I have always wanted to tell you, tell anybody, and you just happen to be the lucky guy I feel the need to pour my heart out to. Read it, burn it, I don't care but at least I'll know before I die you will have read my writing one final time.

_Do you want to know how I've been doing?  
Not much, but there have been happy moments in my life, things I have marvelled at and moments I have enjoyed. Do not think for one moment, that I have not been happy. I have, I have seen beautiful things, met beautiful people. I don't think, I truly don't, that I have missed out. I won't regret anything I have done in my life, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think I should be upset that I will die. The only people seemingly affected by my illness, is my family. _

_I want them to remember me, but I don't, I never want them to be so affected by my death that they can't live. Because what would be the point in me dying, which I have known would happy since I was ten, and them not living their life which they should. My baby sister, Lizzie, who is frightened by the fact of me not being with her. She's only 12, I never wanted her to be scared or be alone. Please, Zach, _look after her.

_Cameron Ann Morgan. The name of a cancer patient. The name of someone who is going to die. How can I have hope when that is certain, tell me please? I don't know, but it is ironic, don't you think?_

_Okay, so I said I would talk about my friend, and I will (I also said this letter may not make sense - I am simply writing as the words come in to my head.) Macey. She has the same cancer as me, we met on a trial and shared a dorm. She is beautiful, and so inspirational, maybe someday you could meet her. I know she would like that, mainly because I have told her so much about you; not that I know much at all. The first thing you notice about her, and I'm telling the truth, is her eyes. The way you can tell she has been through so much, but is still brave and still hanging on, living her life like a normal 17 year old girl. Together, we are trying to do things together before we die. Things like skinny-dipping, skydiving (ha ha, not likely), get a boyfriend. Normal things, things that we haven't been able to do, but want to do. We even wrote to _Make A Wish,_ asking if we could go to Hawaii and surf; they haven't replied yet. Macey is the only person who gets me, I'm not being dramatic or anything, just telling the truth. She knows how hard it is to go on medical trial after medical trial, treatment after treatment, when you know they won't work or they make you even more ill. But we still continue, if only to make our families happy.  
She lives 3 hours away, a long way to some, but not to me because sometimes you just have to see a person you love._

_Remember that lake we used to visit? The one with the big tree? I'm there now. To help me remember, I suppose; remember the times when I was healthy and running around. We were happy then, me and you, Cammie, we would play and run around inventing silly games to play like going to space in that tree. You might not remember it.  
One day, we were having a picnic, our two families, and there was a butterfly. I pointed it out to everyone but they just ignored me or told me it wasn't exactly rare, but you, ha, you looked at me, eyes shining and said to me 'One day you'll be a butterfly, Cams, because all butterflies begin as caterpillars.' and I believed you, I did, I mean I was, I don't know, five? Six? You were wrong, though. I am not a butterfly, nor a caterpillar. I am me, I'm Cammie: that is all I want to be._

_Some days, I feel terrible, I want to die because it gets so bad, and I get so scared because I don't want to be forgotten. But only on those days, the days when my mother holds me and loves me and I cannot ask for anything more than her love. Sometimes I think she is the only one who can cure me, so long as she loves me enough. She does, though, I know that; she has never once given up on me, not even when I have given up on myself - she is the one who reaches out a hand to me when it is dark, pulls me up and turns the light on. I love her so much, I don't want to leave her._

_I'm nearing the end of my letter now, Zach, mainly because I am tired and can't go on, so I will tell you my reason for this random, and for us both, unexpected letter.  
This letter is to tell you my feelings. But you don't have to read it, for all I know, this was in the bin as soon as you got it but I don't care. I wanted to release a burden I guess. To someone who doesn't know me now, to someone who can't judge me or even reply because, lets face it, you won't. That is the only reason for this letter. No other._

_Love,  
Cammie x_

Cammie's breath caught in her throat as she signed of her name and folded the letter in half before sealing it in the envelope she had brought with her to the lake. Briefly, her eyes closed from tiredness - it was quite a distance from her home to the lake - before she opened them again and made her feet walk towards the letterbox across town. She wondered if he would read it, Cammie imagined his reaction to it, they hadn't spoken in years so she knew that it would shock him.

Holding the envelope up to her chest, she smiled softly to herself. All this time, she had been waiting for a miracle when in fact she hadn't needed one. Why should she? She had lived a happy life, she wouldn't die alone, she would die with family.  
Her miracle was the butterfly from the lake. The way it brought light to her eyes when she thought about it, the way it had changed from a strange caterpillar to a stunning butterfly that would explore it's surroundings. The buttefly was the miracle she had been waiting for - she just didn't know it had already happened

With her butterfly in mind, Cammie Morgan posted the letter.

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**Review, please!**

_**Love,**_

_**this-is-my-permanent-username**_


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